


Or worse, tea!

by RemainingQuestions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: (it fails tho dw), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Gen, Implied Attempted Animal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Parseltongue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemainingQuestions/pseuds/RemainingQuestions
Summary: Harry doesn't take kindly to bullies, no matter their house.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	Or worse, tea!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sprucewoodcottage (ironmermaidens)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmermaidens/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Like Father Like Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633518) by [sprucewoodcottage (ironmermaidens)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmermaidens/pseuds/sprucewoodcottage). 



> SWC makes v v good aus

Harry still didn’t get his robe to flare like Snape, even as he quickly walked just like he did. He wouldn’t run, wouldn’t panic the students like that. But he would rush. 

Not there yet, but his wand was in his hand, familiar holly warm to his skin. A wave and the little snake was covered in a protective barrier, another and the spell holding her up was cut and replaced by his own, gently bringing her down. 

“ _ What _ is happening here?” It was clear to him what was happening, what  _ had _ happened. The three Gryffindors were silent as Evan’s loud hissing continued. “Well?”

“He-” one of the boys stepped forward, foolish or overconfident, or considering his robe’s colours, both. “He’s evil! We were just, just teaching him a lesson!” 

Harry was silent, gaze hard as he heard Virgil pant from having to keep his clone back, could nearly feel the tension in the air tighten as Axton’s fists did. 

“I mean! You understand, right? You- you’re  _ Harry Potter _ -” 

“I am, Mister Winship. Moreover, I am a  _ teacher _ at this school, and Mister Xisuma is a  _ student _ .” The three Gryffindor boys were gaping, bluster taken as Harry kept his stern gaze on them. “And what I primarily understand is that  _ bullying _ is against school rules.” 

The boy set his jaw and Harry recognised his own bullheaded stubbornness. 

“Detention, all three of you, tonight and the rest of the week.” He turned his gaze to the three Misters Xisuma, huddled together. 

“But!” 

The call made him turn his gaze and he let a cool expectancy shine through. “Yes Mister Winship?” Clearly he had placed himself into the leadership position of the three bullies.

“We have quidditch training tonight! Sir, you used to be in-” 

“You’ll find you have  _ detention _ tonight.” Harry cut him off. He liked quidditch still, of course. Would still cheer on Gryffindor. But also Huffelpuf, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. They were kids. They were so much more than the badge on their chest. “I’ll let the captain, Miss Morce, know two of her chasers and one beater won’t be able to attend tonight. I’m sure she’ll understand.” He knew, of course, that Miss Morce was even stricter than Wood had been with him. Well, it would hardly be detention if they could just pick their nights. And anyway, the next match would be Ravenclaw Huffelpuf. 

The boy opened his mouth again. 

“Would you like detentions for next week too?” 

His mouth snapped shut and they left, glaring at Harry as they walked. He shrugged it off. He’d been glared down by the Wizengamot when he was their age, annoyed teens had become par for the course. 

“Mister Xisuma, my office.” His voice was softer, but still stern. 

Evie had stopped hiss-shouting but was still straining against Virgil’s arms, Axton’s hands still tight. 

“Mister _ s _ Xisuma, I should say.” He stepped further down the hallway and opened the door. “My office, please.” 

When he’d first had his own office, he modeled it after Remus’. Remus had been a great teacher to him, so clearly that was a good office to have, right? 

Now, years later, it was more his. There was still a terrarium, but it held three cornish pixies, always a fun distraction from horrible essays and wilfully ignorant students. It had a lot of books and a heavy desk. 

But Harry sat down at the table pushed against the wall, the table he placed there specifically for less formal conversations with students. 

It was easy to charm two copies of the chairs so all three of the boys before him could sit. 

“Tea, I think?” His voice was soft, gently modulated. 

Evan was shaking in Virgil’s arms now, Axton clearly still ready to throw a punch. 

“Yes, tea sounds good.” Harry sat down, turned so he wasn’t facing them head on anymore. “Tinkle?” 

“Yes sir professor sir?” The little house elf popped into existence. 

“Tea for four please, make sure to include the good biscuits.” He added with a smile and a wink. 

Tinkle nodded, her ears flopping. “Right away sir!” She popped out and the tea service popped into existence on his table. 

He poured his tea, let the three boys be for a bit. He needed to reprimand Evie for his use of language, even if the boys hadn’t understood his cursing. But mostly, he needed to be sure none of them would end up causing more incidents later on in the day. Wound tightly as they were right now? They’d snap after two steps. 

“Professor?” 

“Yes Virgil?” He let his gaze be soft as his fingertips warmed against thin ceramic. 

“What… what’s our punishment?” His voice was soft, demure and desolate. 

Some days, no matter how many letters he wrote, how much money he threw at the right places, he still just wanted to punch someone in power. Hearing a child’s voice in that tone? Easily made it one of those days. “Your punishment is tea with me.” He took a sip and stirred his tea a bit more. “I’ll write a note why you were late to…”

“Potions, sir.” Voice still so downtrodden. “Slytherin and Gryffindor together.” 

“Ah.” That explained why they were together too. “I’ll make sure Varley understands.” 

Evie was still shivering even as he stroked Poppy. Virgil hadn’t lifted his hand from Evie’s chest. Axton’s gaze was flickering everywhere, trained casualness even though Harry recognised the pattern of windows and doors, obstacles and shields. Some days Harry just wanted to punch someone in power. 

“Sit down, please.” 

They sat. On the edges of their seat, but they sat. 

Virgil poured three cups. Axton grabbed three biscuits. Evie hissed to Poppy and stroked her scales, cheeks wet. 

Harry sipped his tea, nibbled on his biscuit of choice. Slowly, the tension eased down into something nearly approaching manageable levels. 

Over half his cup of tea had been sipped up by that point. “Now Mister Xisuma-” all three their eyes snapped to him. “Evan.” He tried to make his gaze as soft as he could while still ensuring it was stern. “I must reprimand you for your language. How-  _ However _ I must  _ also _ commend you for your restraint.” 

“Huh?” His red eyes were watery still, fingers so gentle against Poppy’s head. 

“Cursing is not allowed here and that includes foreign languages.” Harry said, intentionally obtuse. “But you did ensure a teacher was made aware and didn’t attack Misters Winship, Greene or Ellery.” Not, Harry didn’t say, for a lack of trying. “In fact, I must commend all of your restraint. I know I acted more brashly in the face of lesser aggression.” 

Evan stroked Poppy’s head, teartracks drying on his cheeks. His familiar. If anyone had tried something like that with Hedwig? He would’ve punched a dragon in the snout. Even Malfoy never went after Hedwig. 

The bell rung soon, but the three children remained sitting. Harry refilled their teacups, tried to recall how each took it. There would be a next time, no doubt of that. 

After the second cup, Harry stood up and tore off a piece of parchment, writing down how he held them after an incident, signing it and imbuing it with a bit of his power. Varley never doubted the notes he gave out. 

They were still tightly wound, still tight together. But it was fading, harsh but gently ebbing away. 

Most students would be in class now, corridors empty of further bullies. Of course it was something he’d considered. 

And they were smart, these Xisuma’s, five less minutes of Varley’s, smart and strict but never cruel Varley, wouldn’t set them back. 

The door closed behind them and Harry waved away the tea set, let the chairs snap back into one. 

He sat down behind his desk, large and cluttered, and took a deep breath. From a drawer he grabbed new parchment and dipped his quill in his ink.  _ Hey Hermoine _ \- he started. He’d accidentally dipped into his green ink, the one he used to correct homework. Oh well, Hermoine would understand, it happened often enough.  _ So Evan can  _ _ shout _ _ in Parseltongue and part of me wants to ask how _ -


End file.
